


Out Of The Ring

by Not_You



Series: Clockwork Souls [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Caretaking, Dog Fighting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Old Age, Robot Feels, Short Chapters, Steve Rogers-centric, androids instead of dogs but it's the same idea, robot hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8832781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: Steve is just glad not to have to hurt people anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve hates the ring. He has combat capabilities, but it's not supposed to be like this. It's supposed to mean something. His programming screams for someone to guard, something to protect, some reason for what he's forced to do every night, but there's nothing. Just searing pain and aching wrongness from the new mods, and some other poor droid in his sights. Steve won't deactivate them. They'd have to actually change his brain to make him kill for no reason, and these idiots can't even do basic frame mods correctly. Of course, the damage Steve does do is more than bad enough. He's a SHIELD model. Top of the line.

At night they keep him in a storage locker in full shutdown, and that's just as well. Steve doesn't want to dream. Shutdown means an end to pain and guilt and fear, and he welcomes it. Shutdown also means that he gets rescued without even knowing it. He goes straight from the locker to the hospital, coming online in a reclined charging socket with another Steve in pink scrubs standing over him.

“There you are,” he says with a warm smile, stroking Steve's hair. “You're safe now, and Phil will be here soon.”

“Thank you,” Steve says softly, and then starts to cry. The other Steve soothes him and wipes away his blue-tinted tears, and soon the door opens and Phil comes in. They all know Phil, and Steve reaches out for him. Phil sits down beside the socket and takes both of Steve's hands.

“Steve,” he says, “my poor baby. Does it hurt?”

“No,” Steve says, glancing down at his body and seeing the big, dreadful rents where whole massive chunks of back-alley tech have been removed. “Ugh. Can they fix me?”

“Of course we can fix you,” Phil says, squeezing his hands affectionately and then releasing them so he can fuss with the socket's settings. Steve had thought it was at optimum, but somehow Phil makes it even more comfortable than it already was, and beams down at him when he says so. “We'll take care of you, Steve. Don't worry.”

Steve goes back into dreamless recharge after that, so they can get started on the repairs.. He'll have to dream at some point, to help his memory properly incorporate everything he has been through. He wonders who the mindbot is, here. Most models can perform the function with the right patches, so it could be almost anyone.

The next time Steve comes back online, everything hurts. He can't help letting out a high-pitched, beeping damage alarm, and a moment later a Steve in green scrubs is coming through the door with a cart full of surface repair materials.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, taking up a container of wax and a broad applicator, "we thought you'd stay under longer and we'd have more time to apply wax before you woke up."

"It's okay," Steve says, even if it does not feel anything like okay. The first touch of wax is an enormous relief, and soon Green Steve, as he introduces himself, has covered all the visible subdural mesh. Steve still aches, but it's far more bearable than the sharp, burning agony of so much exposed mesh.

Green Steve smiles down at him. "Better?"

"Yeah," Steve says, and his counterpart strokes his hair. "Good. I've got rounds to make, but I'll see if I can get someone in to read to you."


	2. Chapter 2

Steve is expecting another nursebot to be the one charged with entertaining him, but instead Phil comes in with an actual paper book, smiling at Steve's surprise.

"I care about all my creations, Steve," he says, sitting down beside the charge socket. "I may have to recharge a lot more than you guys, but I do what I can while I'm up."

"Thank you, Phil," Steve says softly, watching him. "What have you brought to read?"

"Some Sherlock Holmes. It's all public domain, but I have the feeling you haven't had much time to read."

Steve shakes his head. He has a vague idea of who the character is and the place his adventures have in popular culture, but nothing more. Now he relaxes in his charging socket, immeasurably soothed to hear a caring human voice. No harsh orders to kill, no insults or other abuse, just the soft words of the story. It's like being back in the QA room, with its gentle techs, and by the middle of the story Steve's eyes are welling up again. Phil stops reading, and leans over to dab up the tears.

"It's okay, Steve," he says softly. "I'm so sorry we couldn't protect you."

"You found me, though," Steve says, leaning into the touch. Phil strokes his hair, repetitive and soothing, and Steve sighs before tensing all over again. "Phil," he says, "what about the others?"

Phil smiles. "All returned to their manufacturers or last legal owner, whichever seemed more caring. We're monitoring them to be sure we were right about that."

Steve can't help a miserable little noise, his hand going to the rent in his dermal layer where the SHIELD tracking chip used to be. "H-how did you find me?" he asks, and Phil smiles sadly, stroking his hair.

"We got to work the old-fashioned way as soon as the chip was removed," Phil says.

Since Steve wants to know, Phil shows him the search pattern they used, an outward spiral centered on the scrapyard where the chip ended up. The people running the ring had had the sense to do it well outside their territory, but SHIELD had been patient and dedicated. Steve is touched to see how far they had to go and how closely they had to look to find him, and he groans in irritation as tears spill down his cheeks.

"It's all right," Phil says gently, dabbing at him again. "Your emotions will be a little overclocked for a while, but you shouldn't have to testify. We lifted the relevant records while we were making sure your brain is in order, you just need to sign the consent form for us to use them."

"Can I do that now?" Steve asks, and Phil nods, stroking his hair again.

"Sure," he says, and brings up the file on his phone. Steve reads it carefully, and then signs with his name and serial number before relaxing back into his socket.

"Once you're more rested and we've got your dermal mesh in better order, and we'll send you to Paprika. Our mindbot is a Pepper," Phil explains, "and that's her nickname."

"It's cute," Steve says, smiling, and Phil smiles back.

"My poor boy," he says, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Steve says softly, patting Phil's hand with the one hand he still has, the other replaced with a blade, now thankfully removed. "You found me."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day is nothing but repairs and recharge. When Pink Steve comes around with more wax, there's a Natasha walking with him. She's just out of the box, nothing visibly wrong at all, and even if Steve feels too exhausted to properly worry about her, the urge is there. Someone so new and physically undamaged must have a terrible story. He's still dimly fretting about her as he slowly slides into recharge again, and when he comes online to find Phil sitting beside his socket, he asks about Natasha.

Phil smiles sadly. "She's stuck in failsafe mode. She needed to protect herself from her owner, and can't be placed until she works out which modes she wants to use again. Don't worry, Steve, she'll be all right."

At least now Steve can leave his socket and walk around a bit, enjoying the replacement muscle fibers and skin. When he moves he feels almost new, except for the energy expenditure and some places where his mesh is still exposed. Near him is a Bruce who's still offline, in need of the kind of massive recharge most droids know nothing about. Steve is glad to find another Natasha, still glitching a bit from hardware damage to her brain. She's still fun to be around, and can hold her own in a game of poker. A Clint incorporating a new eye joins them after the first few hands, and tells all sorts of interesting stories about working as a courier and about the SHIELD office where he's part of the security team. He works with a lot of Steves, he says, and there's something remarkably easy about being with him. With Natasha too, and she laughs when he says so.

"Well, we are--we are--we are--" her head twitches with each repetition, her voice buzzing. "We _are_ ," she growls, gripping her head in both hands, "from the same line. It makes sense that we would get along."

"I guess so," Steve says, as Clint pats Natasha's shoulder.

"Hey, you're talking a lot better," he says. "That was a nasty knock to the processor you took."

"I'm still tired of it," she grumbles, and Steve smiles at her.

"I'm sure they'll have you readjusted soon."

"Yes," says Maria One, walking up to their little group. Where the Steve nurses prefer to be identified by scrub color, the Marias simply style their hair differently and use sequential numbers. "Natasha," One says, "it's time for your adjustment. Hopefully this one will eliminate the spasms."

Steve and Clint wish her luck, and put the cards away since poker isn't really any fun with two. A Tony comes tottering in on spindly, exposed leg frames, cursing softly. A shared binary signal that's not even a thought and Steve and Clint are up, catching him as he pitches forward.

"Thanks, guys," he says. "I guess I should've kept using the walker."

"Fuckin' Tonys, man," Clint mutters, and Steve laughs, helping Tony to a chair. There's a warm feeling of purpose to this, and Steve is happy to go get Tony some joint compound and a reader full of work from his room.

"So what's on this?" Steve asks as he hands it over, and Tony chuckles. "My kids's homework. Five of 'em, and me being in the hospital is no excuse for slacking."


	4. Chapter 4

Steve is still pondering how good it felt to help Tony and wondering what it would be like to be a tutorbot when it's time for him to go to Paprika's office. He's fascinated by all the mindbot accoutrements, and is more eager than nervous when she puts the interfacing hardware on his head, even though he knows that they'll be going through his memories together. They aren't all bad memories, even with everything SHIELD rescued him from. After the QA room a man had activated Steve to be a sparring partner and to help in his machine shop, lifting large parts with android strength. He had liked that, being helpful and using his combat capabilities in such an innocent way. 

And then the man had had to sell his shop to go be near an older family member who was malfunctioning badly, and Steve had been sold with it. Steve hadn't minded the sale itself. He had been curious about his other capabilities, and if he had to part with his owner, he liked the thought of going for a good price and helping out one last time. He had gone for a good price, to an elderly woman who had had him patrol her house and yard in the night. That had been good. Steve had felt useful, and if it had been a little lonely, he had gotten to see a lot of nocturnal wildlife.

The bad part had begun with his second owner's death. That had been upsetting, but she had been very old, and humans only last so long. At the estate auction the fighting ring had gotten him, and from then on out it had been nothing but abuse. The forced modifications, the fights themselves, and a constant cloud of anger and derision. Even hating them, hating everything about the situation, it had still hurt not to please. All of Phil's creations are built to enjoy helping humans, and to have to perform a hateful task only to be berated for his reluctance had wounded him even more, and his eyes are full of tears when Paprika cuts the contact.

"Oh, Steve," she says, and leaves her chair to hug him. "It's all right."

Steve clings to her. "I... I never want to use my combat capabilities again. I mean, I will if I have to, but only then."

"Only then," Paprika says, and strokes his hair before pulling away again to give him some tissues for his tears and some joint compound because treats cheer everyone up. Steve thanks her for it, and goes back to his room, almost as exhausted as he used to be after a fight on new mods. 

At least this doesn't have that sick, illogical feeling to it, his whole system trying to reject bad code. And instead of being yelled at for not deactivating his opponent, he gets Maria Two taking a large portion of his weight and sending him soothing code the whole way back to his room. She even helps him into his socket, and carefully sets it for optimum recharge, smiling at him through the clear door as he fades out in comfort.


	5. Chapter 5

When Steve comes out of recharge again, he's thinking about his remaining capabilities. All of them are combat-related, however tangentially, and he realizes now that he really has been broken by his experience. He doesn't even want to be a personal trainer or sparring partner anymore. He doesn't want to hurt anyone, not even at ten percent strength, and his eyes actually start to well up as he thinks about it. He wipes the tears away and goes in search of someone to talk to, because this is clearly no time to be alone.

He almost runs into an armless Peggy in the hallway, and he uses his strength and speed to steady her. Steves usually have at least a little crush on any Peggy they meet, and Steve is no exception. He feels stupid when he's still holding her after they've both stopped moving, but she just smiles at him.

"Thank you, Steve," she says in her crisp English accent. "I'm really not supposed to be toddling around with no arms, but I got bored in my room."

"Better bored than depressed," Steve says, and her smile turns concerned.

"Poor boy. Walk me down to the day room and tell me about it?"

Steve is glad to do both, and is still talking when they arrive. "I was just realizing that I can't stand to use my combat capabilities at all anymore, and that's so much of what my model even does..." He sighs, and helps Peggy onto one of the couches, sitting down beside her. "I just hate not having a task even more than I hate being broken."

She nods. "Programming does change in response to trauma. People who hurt us are part of shaping who we are, and the only revenge is to live well. Have you thought of taking a patch, or of asking Phil what to do?"

"...Maybe I should talk to him," Steve says, and Peggy smiles.

"Talking to Phil is usually a good decision. Would you mind getting me some joint compound?"

"Not at all. I haven't even asked why you're here. Feels rude."

She smiled. "You were having an existential crisis. I'm just here for an upgrade."

Steve smiles back, and goes to the dispenser, getting four pellets because lots of joint compound can help ease the pain of limb removal and modification. Even done properly it makes the whole frame ache, and he can see the gratitude in her face when he comes back and says that three out of four pellets are for her. Then she opens her mouth expectantly and Steve can feel his blushing subroutine running without his say-so, the way it always does. He carefully feeds her the first pellet, and she chews it quickly.

"So what kind of upgrade is it?" Steve asks, feeding her the second one.

"My factory-issue arms have a lot of useful things in them, but my owner wanted more. She's probably right. She's prominent enough to need a bodyguard bot, and there's going to be a baby to protect, too. It makes me nervous to be in here, but she rented some Steves." She smiles at him and accepts the third pellet. "And I have always trusted your model."


	6. Chapter 6

Steve walks Peggy back to her room in much better spirits. She's right, he just needs to expand his capabilities. Any SHIELD model can do it. He says as much to her, and she smiles, eyes a little fuzzy with fatigue.

"I'm just glad to help a Steve in distress," she says, her voice a little tinny where a human would be yawning constantly. 

Peggy is no exception to the general rule of limb mods requiring a lot of recharge, and really does need to be escorted, her balance more off than it was before. Green Steve smiles fondly as they pass him, and Steve feels a bit ridiculous to be doing his job, but also happy to have a task.

Once Steve is sure that Peggy is nice and comfortable in her recharge socket, he calls Phil. The corridor is quiet enough for him to just lean against the wall by her door, and he waits for Phil to answer, hoping that it isn't a bad time. Phil does sound a little harried when he answers, but he remembers Steve's case and sounds very sincere about being pleased to hear from him.

Steve explains his feelings about his capabilities and his conversation with Peggy, and Phil makes assenting noises as he listens. "You know," he says, and Steve can tell that he's walking quickly and hopes yet again that he isn't being a bother, "I designed you all with an eye toward flexibility. Meet me in my office in an hour, and we can go over your patch options, okay?"

"Okay. Sorry if I'm in the way of your work."

"Not at all," Phil says, and then calls for someone to switch off line five. Steve ends the call before Phil can further inconvenience himself with kindness. There's always a warm feeling to talking to Phil, and Steve smiles.

"You better not be stalking that Peggy," Tony says, shuffling past on his walker.

Steve rolls his eyes, peeling off of the wall to walk with him. "Not only would I not, but Peggy doesn't need arms to kick my ass."

Tony laughs, and Steve stays with him as he makes laps of the floor, only leaving to keep his appointment with Phil. On the way there he realizes that he's tired, but there's no time for recharge now. Phil is waiting for him with a cup of coffee for himself, and wax for Steve. He hadn't even noticed the pain creeping back until Phil makes it go away, drawing pleased hissing and buzzing from him.

Phil smiles up at him. "Better?"

"Much," Steve says, "thank you."

Phil says that he's willing to work with Steve if he wants to take a large patch or one that requires hardware changes, but Steve shudders at the thought of any more of that, and Phil gives him a sad smile and starts with the codes most easily assimilated by Steves. The sexual companion patch sounds embarrassing, the pilot patch is much too difficult for something that doesn't really compel him, but the nurse patch seems so inevitable in retrospect. Steve has been caring for his fellow patients as best he can, and the thought of being an actual healer is a wonderful one.


	7. Chapter 7

Given all the forced mods Steve has endured, everyone understands when it has to be Phil. Steve is sure that all of SHIELD's software techs are wonderful people and would take excellent care of him, but Phil is woven into Steve's very being. He feels safe with his creator. Phil is of course honored and saddened by all this, and makes time in his busy schedule to meet Steve in one of the clean rooms.

The hardware changes involved in taking a patch are minimal, but the head must be opened and a small chip inserted before the operator plugs in a tablet and inputs the code to unlock the chip's main functions and all the attached data. The idea terrifies Steve, and it's all he can do to sit still and not audibly buzz with panic, scrubbed and alone in the white room. And then Phil comes in, and things are all right.

"Hi, Steve," he says softly, swathed to the eyes in blue scrubs.

"Hi, Phil," Steve says, and it comes out a little buzzy, but not too bad. He can't see Phil's mouth, but he can tell that he's smiling, the lines deepening at the corners of his eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asks, and Steve nods. He's still nervous, but he can handle it now. Phil is here.

"I'm going to keep you awake for this," he says, checking the instruments, and Steve nods, eyes welling up. 

He has been forced offline to come back to the agony of incompatible components so many times, and he was prepared to brave it again, to trust Phil with his lost time. Now that he doesn't have to, and it takes him almost a full five seconds to get his emotions back under control. Phil checks over his equipment, and then puts one shining instrument to the hinge of Steve's jaw, right behind his left ear. 

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yes," Steve says. There's a small click, and then his head opens. For a moment he's terrified, running old, garbled code, but then things smooth out again. He's home at SHIELD, and this is Phil. Phil will be gentle with his fragile circuits, and the code won't hurt and there won't be hardware conflicts... He can feel his eyes getting damp again, but he can't exactly wipe them from this angle. Phil takes a moment to tenderly blot Steve's tears for him.

"There," he says softly. "It's all right, Steve. It's all right."

Steve doesn't nod, staying still for the chip, but he sighs when it slots into place. It has been so long since his last proper modification. This is how it's supposed to go, approved parts fitting together like perfectly cut mosaic tiles. The chip feels like it's meant to be there, and the connection with the tablet is effortless. Phil is humming softly, and Steve knows that the tune is 'Barbara Allen' without ever having heard it.

Steve isn't sure what he's expecting when Phil enters the codes. There is a sudden burst of knowledge, but that feels inevitable, too. It's like Steve has always known the acceptable value ranges of every chemical in the human body, and the best techniques to move patients who can't move themselves. He smiles, and is still smiling when Phil unplugs the tablet and shuts Steve's face.

"Feel all right?" Phil asks, and Steve nods.

"Yeah," he says softly, and stands up, ready to follow Phil out to QA.


	8. Chapter 8

The SHIELD Quality Assurance Department is home to every SHIELD model, even more than the rest of the complex. This is where they all first open their eyes, take their first steps, speak their first words. Steve has been trying to keep himself under control, but he does start to cry when he sees that Phil has arranged the same group of technicians for him. They gather around him and make human comfort gestures at him, hugs and shoulder-pats that really do help. 

They wait for him to be truly calm, not just trying to be calm, and then lead him over to Testing Bay 04, where Steve woke up for the very first time. It's almost enough to make him cry again, but they start him on the simple, addictive color-matching game that everyone begins with. It's profoundly soothing, and puts him into the right frame of mind for the rest of his assessment.

The techs are just as kind and patient as they were the first time, and lead Steve through games and exercises to make sure that his systems are fully operational (if still a little painful, incision sites painted with wax) and that he has properly assimilated the nurse patch and has access to all its information. These are much more complicated than the basic QA set, but very interesting. He's pleased to know so much about how to repair humans now, and about all the little bones in their hands, the complicated chemistry of their blood, the way their teeth attach, and everything else.

Steve doesn't really need to charge after QA, but he does it anyway, for maximum comfort. When he comes online again, it's to find Paprika sitting beside his charger. She greets him with a smile, and shows him the first of a series of files on humans who need a nursebot. There are a lot of different requests, and it's a good thing that Steve's processor is so fast.

He wants to belong to someone again, but he wants to really enjoy them, and Phil tells him again and again to take all the time he needs. He can't help but feel a little guilty, since someone out there needs his help and ought to get it, but Paprika points out how ridiculous that is in light of everything he has been through.

"Steve," she says, handing him some joint compound, "our purpose is to assist humanity, but we do have a right to self-care."

Steve sighs, and lets out a weak chuckle. "I guess so," he says, and then thanks her for the capsule and chews it up while he examines another file.

It feels like an eternity until Steve has a shortlist of people he's willing to meet face-to-face, but his chronometer lets him know that it has only been about two days. Even he has to admit that he hasn't taken much time when it's only the third meeting, and he knows. Janet Carter and her elderly mother, Rose, are just the kind of people he would like to belong to. Rose is nearly a hundred and fifteen, but may make a hundred and thirty, being in excellent physical health for her age, but her mental decline is putting her in danger and negatively affecting her quality of life. 

Rose takes to Steve immediately, lucid and sharp and full of fascinating stories about life a century ago, and it isn't until he has helped her through most of her daily workout when she slips, suddenly completely displaced in time and space and accordingly terrified. Even with forewarning it's alarming to see, and Steve is very glad that Rose is willing to take his arm so that he can walk her back to what she currently thinks is her little sister. Janet meets Steve's eyes over Rose's head, and he smiles softly, resolved to take care of her, too.


	9. Chapter 9

Now that Steve knows that he wants to belong to the Carters, he takes the gerontology patch to be better able to look after Rose. He's still a little nervous, but one of the QA techs runs the patch for him. He doesn't need Phil holding his hand anymore, even if he is absolutely delighted to see him when he comes to personally check on the patch.

"I can't help but worry about you," Phil tells him, smiling softly as he connects his tablet to Steve. 

It's as easy as it was the first time, and Steve runs through the new code a few times. Once he's sure that he has all the gerontology in order, Phil gives him Rose's medical records. It's very pleasing to collate her values with the standard ones, and Steve makes the quiet hum of happy machinery as he works. Phil chuckles, and checks with Steve before disconnecting, since it can be jarring without warning.

"I guess I'm ready, then," Steve says, and a little self-preservation subroutine runs even though there's no reason for it.

Phil puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Steve, we're going to put a return order on you unless you tell us not to. We don't want to lose track of you again. "Steve puts his hand over Phil's, and only hesitates a moment before pulling him into his arms. Phil chuckles, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "It's okay," he murmurs, "We'll take care of you."

Steve can't help a little embarrassment at even needing a return order, but he reminds himself that he has damaged programming. He certainly doesn't say anything against the order, sitting at the table with his representative on one side and Rose on the other, holding her little bird claw of a hand while a couple of SHIELD lawyers write up the order. It's not a very complex document. Whatever the circumstances of their parting, Steve is to be returned to SHIELD. There are steps he could take to be safer in open sale, but he prefers not to deal with it at all. 

The brand new Natasha understands. They talk on one of his last nights before he goes home with Rose and Janet, crunching joint compound. Steve tells her about the good times with his previous humans, and gives her his personal code so she can let him know when she gets a good placement of her own.

Steve doesn't really have any possessions, so when it's time to leave he just offers Rose his arm and shuffles along with her slow steps. She's sort of in-between today, hazy on when, where, and who, but not overly concerned with it. She seems to think that Steve is taking her to a dance, and he listens to her girlish giggling all the way through Janet reading and signing the return order. 

Rose's moods and sense of time can change quickly, but when they get home, Steve is delighted to put on some very old music and dance with her. They shuffle around on the living room rug while Janet prepares fuel in the kitchen, the lines anxiety has etched into her face softening. For a moment, they look more alike than they ever have, ageless and beautiful.


End file.
